


The Bint and Her Brats

by y3llowdaisi3s



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Santa!kink, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 03:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/y3llowdaisi3s/pseuds/y3llowdaisi3s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since Scorpius became friends with Rose, Hermione had become a staple part of his life. Draco wanted to make it permanent, he just didn’t have the bollocks to do it. Until now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bint and Her Brats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UnseenLibrarian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnseenLibrarian/gifts).



> Woohoo for tygermine because she's a lovely beta. The highstakes_ww community for helping complete this thing. And the mini_fest mods for granting me an extension that I actually didn’t use. And unseen1969 thank you for the wonderful prompt. I keep finding myself selecting prompts of yours and I hope you enjoy the following.

**The Bint and Her Brats**

  
The bint was lucky he fancied the daylights out of her. Actually, she was lucky that his son wanted to do all the things his best friend would normally do for the holidays. She was even luckier that he hadn’t found a way to say no to his son nor his best friend, the young girl with riotous curls that rivaled her rambunctious personality - who just so happened to be the bint’s mini-me.  
  
He was appalled at the state of his kitchen... of Scorpius... of himself! He now realised why she gave him an amused look when he stepped down the staircase in his usual stylish best. He hadn’t thought about it at the time, too disappointed that she was wearing a pair of sweatpants. He wouldn’t let the lack of attempt at impressing him deter him, she was wearing a old tight Gryffindor shirt that left little to the imagination.  
  
He followed her into the breakfast room and lifted an eyebrow at the sight of his son in an old pajama set that was too tight to button all the way up and the pants barely reached his ankles. Her daughter was no better, wearing one of Scorpius’s old shirts over a pair of torn tights.  
  
Well, now he understood why he should not have worn his favourite cashmere jumper with his freshly pressed trousers.  
  
His son and he were crouched behind a counter, holding mixing spoons with batter dripping and hands full of sugar, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. His hair was a disarray, he was sure he would have to spend an hour in the bath, only after convincing his son that clumps of flour in your hair was not stylish.  
  
The smile on his son’s face though...  
  
It meant more than just trying to impress a girl.  
  
Draco would never have thought that this is where he would have been when the year had started. He barely listened to his mother when she suggested that her grandson would benefit from attending nursery -  _Your Aunt Andromeda spoke highly of it, and anything that would help him make friends and less likely to turn out a spoilt brat like his father, would be good for him_. He scoffed at his mother then, but he would have to avoid the ‘I told you so’ looks she would be passing him on Boxing Day, especially when he would formally introduce Hermione as his fiance, if his Christmas plans panned out.  
  
What had started out as mutual acquaintances - all right, old enemies, but Draco tried to act like everything before May of 1998 happened in some fantasy book, not his actual life - who had children in the same class quickly escalated to trying to pry the pair apart when it was time to go home after a playdate. Those playdates turned into coffee dates for the parents, and those coffee dates turned into light kisses on the cheek. The light kisses turned into sneaking around to snog, but it was hard when there were always,  _always_  little munchkins underfoot gagging at any sign of grown up affection.  
  
The two brats were lucky he was enchanted with them, subjecting himself to such a plebeian thing like baking cookies. Especially as it was Christmas Eve, and he should be sitting in the library sipping on some of Ogden’s finest, while the House-elves prepared the Christmas Feast. But no, the three - the bint and her brats, he liked to call them - had cornered him the night before and made him promise -  _pinky promises could never be broken, or so say the children_  - that the entire day would be spent doing all the normal Christmas traditions.  
  
Like getting into a food fight in the middle of baking cookies.  
  
His son nudged his shoulder, nodding in the opposite direction of where they saw their adversaries last. Draco nodded back and crouched low to cover his son. He watched the opening as Scorpius belly crawled through the flour and sugar -  _Thank Merlin for House Elves, laundry after this would be hell, let alone cleaning the kitchen_  - around the corner of the island. When Scorpius was out of his sight, Draco peeked around the corner only to have an egg smashed on top of his head.  
  
The squeal of his son as he ran away dragging the little bushy-haired Rose by the hand with him shocked Draco from retaliating.  
  
 _What the? Weren’t they on the same side?_  
  
“All’s fair in love and baking, Draco.” The smirk on Hermione Granger’s face as she stepped around the island, looking down at him with her hands on her hips, was an enticing sight. But it was not enticing enough to distract him from the yolk gliding down his forehead.  
  
\--  
  
He didn’t know how he allowed himself to be convinced to make gingerbread houses. Honestly, if baking sugar cookies was a mess, how was this going to be any different.  
  
Of course, Hermione being the Smartest Witch of the Age - her words, he would never admit that to her face, even if he happened to agree - had given him a logical explanation.  
  
“We’re not baking the houses. We’re sort of cheating in a way. We’re using graham crackers and frosting and candy, and you won’t get any eggs in your precious hair.” He wanted to tease her about cheating at something and how he never thought he’d see the day, but she was too busy petting his just dried locks.  
  
He swatted her hands away and stuck his tongue out at her, to the delight of their children.  
  
She smiled back at him. He liked it when her smile was directed at him, and whenever he interacted with the children - which was often now that they were dating - she always had a smile on her face.  
  
“Okay kids, I asked Madam Pranzo to set aside a few of your mini milk cartons, just for this occasion.”  
  
“Yay” the two five-year-olds cheered, not caring that the lunch-lady gave them discarded garbage and excited to dig their hands into the various bowls of candy spread across the kitchen island.  
  
Draco kept an eye on their hands, Hermione having told them the candy was meant for decorating, not eating. But he couldn’t help but let them get away with being sneaky. The two took turns distracting their parents to sneak two pieces of whichever candy so they could have a treat. He smirked when Hermione remained oblivious to the little snakes antics.  
  
It didn’t matter that Rose was the daughter of two Gryffindors, his and Scorpius’s influence would have her sorted into Slytherin, much to the chagrin of her father - who decided that being a father and being married to Hermione was too much for him. The youngest Weasley male preferred to live in the limelight, playing for a second-rate Quidditch team, and shagging a different trollop each night.  _“It was too much”_ , he had said when he left, or so Hermione said when Draco finally managed to pry the story out of her.  
  
 _His loss,_  Draco mused. He was more than happy to step in. Not only was Rose a delight, she was great at being Scorpius’s best friend. Plus she was part of a package deal that included a gorgeous mum. Draco wasn’t one of those blokes who believed in MILFs, but when he saw Hermione Granger picking up her daughter that first day of school dressed in a crisp button down blouse, tight pencil skirt, and kitten heels...  
  
“Daddy!” Rose shouted, poking him, causing both him and Hermione to gasp.  
  
“Rosie... Draco isn’t your daddy.” Hermione quietly chastised, holding back tears. The subject of Rose’s father was a touchy subject that Draco was fairly familiar with. He was surprised that he found himself hex-free their first conversation when he so rudely pointed out how giving the Weasel a child couldn’t even keep him around.  
  
Yes, he knew he was an arse, and he had took them all out for ice cream to make up for it. It helped that Scorpius kicked him in the shin for upsetting his new best friend’s mummy. He spent the rest of the day apologizing while the kids played in the park. He held her close, while she cried about the “stupid Weasel.” Draco liked how she referred to him as that, and it was worth the blotched shirt that he had to throw out afterwards.  
  
“We share. We decided.” His little boy looked at him as if the subject wasn’t even worth the short statement.  
  
“It doesn’t work that way, Scor,” he chided. Secretly, deep inside, he was ecstatic. He knew one of the top arguments Granger would have was that children - Rose in particular - would find issue with having Draco as a father-figure, notwithstanding that he had already filled that role for the past year anyway.  
  
“Yes, it does. Rose said her daddy is never there and I don’t have a mummy, so we share!” Scorpius shouted while Rose nodded her head in affirmation.  
  
Draco looked to Hermione, not really sure what to do. Hermione shook her head and he could see the tear tracks down her cheeks.They weren’t anything more than just boyfriend and girlfriend - at no fault at his own, how he tried before this, on her birthday, Rose’s birthday, last week, but he could never  _actually_  ask, fearing that it was too soon, the kids wouldn’t understand, the Weasley’s would be upset, his Mother would object, and all the plethora of reasons that the practical Granger would give should he ask - and the children considered them all one big happy family.  
  
Scorpius, having watched his father’s reaction, looked at Hermione and jumped from his seat and ran around the island to her. He crawled up her legs and hugged her close, whispering, “It’s okay, Mummy.”  
  
Draco choked. As Ronald Weasley was a sore subject for Hermione, Astoria Greengrass was a sore subject for him. He had married her as the contract stipulated from his birth, but they avoided each other at all costs. It was almost a miracle that Scorpius was even conceived on their wedding night as he never wanted to be near the cold-hearted bitch. When she passed away giving birth to his son, it was a bittersweet day. The harpy he could not stand -  _who was she to hold onto Pureblood ideology after all they had been through?_  - was finally gone, but now he was left with a son who would never know the love of his mum.  
  
A bitter pill to swallow, especially as Draco had feared that he would be just like Lucius Malfoy and without someone like Narcissa, his son could fare far worse than the bully Draco was as a child.  
  
Luckily, it didn’t happen that way.  
  
And now his son had picked out a Mummy.  
  
He shrugged his shoulders at the bewildered look Hermione gave him. His son could have picked worse. Plus, when he asked her tomorrow morning, her second argument - Scorpius’s reaction - would be moot.  
  
“Rosie!” Hermione screeched when she found the m&m bowl half empty, and a smirk that rivaled the Malfoys’ patented - it wasn’t really patented, but the Wizarding World knew who the smirk belonged to, so might as well have been - on her face.  
  
“You forgot to share.” Scorpius mumbled into Hermione’s shoulder, making her pat his back.  
  
Rose pulled something out of her pocket and reached out to Scorpius. She dropped a handful of m&m’s for him to have.  
  
Draco laughed out loud and smiled at the mirth in Hermione’s eyes.  
  
\--  
  
“You know, I had a perfectly nice tree up yesterday. It was decorated and beautiful, and I didn’t have to dredge through snow to get it.” Draco huffed as he hiked through the Malfoy grounds towards the forest. It wasn’t even noon yet and he had had eggs in his hair, dealt with a teary eyed Hermione, and cold, wet socks, the things he did for the bint and her brats.  
  
“Well, you didn’t have anything to do with that tree. The House-elves had chopped it down and decorated it, and hush, the kids are excited.” Hermione responded, pushing her gloved hands into the pockets of her sweater.  
  
The two kids were oblivious to the wariness between their parents. They ran ahead, shouting and playing in the snow, acting as if the serious conversation from the kitchen never even happened.  
  
 _“If only,”_  Draco sighed. Hermione was a lot brighter prior to the Mummy/Daddy mix-up and while she did lighten up after the kids shenanigans with stealing candy, he could tell there was still a lot on her mind.  
  
“Hmm?” Hermione looked at him in question. The red of her nose made her look silly, and it made Draco smile as he shook his head.  _It doesn’t matter, I love Rose and Scorpius loves Hermione. And I know I love Hermione._  
  
SPLAT!  
  
Draco screamed in frustration. First it was eggs, and now it was snow. He wiped the flakes off his face and glared up ahead. Rose stood sheepishly while pointing at Scorpius. Scorpius stood nonchalantly, as if without a care in the world, nodding at Rose.  
  
If his face wasn’t freezing he would have laughed.  
  
Hermione, who hadn’t been hit by a wayward snowball, did not have that problem and she was hunched over unable to breathe.  
  
The two brats took her lead and also laughed while running towards them. He remained stoic, and subtlety pulled his wand from his sleeve. He wordlessly cast a warming and drying spell on himself. The kids had reached Hermione and were all laughing at his misfortune, and he wouldn’t be a Slytherin if he let them go unpunished.  
  
He sent three snowballs their way and they hit their target perfect. All three were knocked over into the soft ground, wisps of powdered snow flying where they once stood.  
  
He had knocked them speechless and it was his turn to be bent over with his hands on his knees, laughing as if there was no tomorrow.  
  
Next thing he knew, he was pummelled to the ground by the two brats and a barrage of snowballs came at him in a flurry. The two children were screaming in happiness, and making him go deaf in both ears.  
  
Hermione stood over him, arms akimbo, with the Malfoy smirk on her face - it made him feel good to know that he and Scorpius had the same effect on her that they did on Rose - while the snowballs kept coming.  
  
He was cold. He was wet. He was in pain.  
  
But he was happy.  
  
\--  
  
“What are you doing?” Draco had pulled himself up so that he was sitting in the snow. He wrapped his arms around his knees and watched as Hermione laid on her back and swayed her arms and legs.  
  
“Making a snow angel,” Hermione hummed.  
  
The two children ceased laughing and sat up to watch Hermione make a snow angel. Rose smiled and fell backwards and copied her mum.  
  
Scorpius was confused at first but at the smile from his best friend, he also fell backwards and begun to sway.  
  
Draco couldn’t help the feeling that went through him watching Scorpius being silly in the snow with the two females.  
  
“Daddy, join us!” Both children shouted between giggles.  
  
He looked at the woman who held his future goal in her hands, who had his heart. The smile on his face made him sure that tonight was the night to ask her to make this family a permanent family.  
  
He fell backwards and join in their fun.  
  
\--  
  
“There aren’t any pine or fir trees on the Manor grounds, Granger.” Draco couldn’t help but say. They had been walking for an hour and it was almost time for lunch. His stomach was rumbling and he could tell that the brats wanted something in their stomachs.  
  
“Don’t worry, Draco. We’ll find the perfect tree.” Hermione snarked back. She gave him the Malfoy smirk and it made him proud to see it on her face.  
  
“There it is!” The two children squealed and ran ahead of them, straight to the perfect christmas tree. The pine tree was in the middle of a clearing, the treeline twenty metres at all angles. The tree itself was double his size in height and the children could barely wrap their arms around it’s trunk.  
  
“It’s perfect,” his son breathed, eyes sparkling.  
  
The smug look on the bint’s face made Draco question the coincidence of finding the ‘perfect’ tree.  
  
“What did you do?” He whispered, not wanting to give it away to the brats, the two were giggling playing some silly game about rings, swinging their arms while skipping around the tree.  
  
“Don’t worry your little brain about it,” she chuckled. The two kids giggled louder and each reached out to them to join in their game. She turned her head to him and stared at him in challenge and cantered over to the tree.  
  
He shook his head at her antics and was just happy to have the finding a tree portion of the day finished.  
  
\--  
  
“Why are we not done with the tree?” he sighed dejectedly, letting his arms fall to his sides.  
  
“We have to decorate it, silly,” Rose smiled up at him as she skipped to the tree holding one end of a string of lights.  
  
“Yeah, daddy, don’t be silly,” his son mocked as he ran with the other end of the lights.  
  
“Yeah, silly,” Hermione snickered. She was carrying white garland to the base of the tree.  
  
“Why can’t we use magic for this?” He asked as he grabbed a few boxes from the corner of the room. The night before, Hermione had asked all the elves to keep the decorations out after they dismantled the tree. Bimbly, Lonny, and Pitti had been put out when asked, but Hermione had promised them to give them lots of cleaning to make up for it, and soon. The House-elves delighted at the compromise and Draco only arched his brow at her, thinking she was crazy and was falling back on her morals.  
  
If only he knew then what he knew now.  
  
The bint was crazy and he sincerely hoped that the mess-making was finished that morning in the kitchen. Oh, how he hoped.  
  
The singing coming from the tree drew his attention to his soon-to-be-family - when he grew the bollocks to ask, that is. Rose was singing, quite nicely for a little kid, some holiday tune while Hermione hummed the tune. Scorpius, who had never heard any of the Muggle songs before, would mumble along with his best friend and sing a word really loud when he could guess it.  
  
It was quaint and exactly how he had always pictured his family would be.  
  
“Isn’t that perfect?” A falsetto voice asked behind his ear.  
  
He was a Malfoy and he did not jump in surprise, but only barely flinched at the surprise. “Mother?” he gasped as he turned around slowly, catching his breath to see his mother smiling at the picture he had just been watching.  
  
She ignored him and sauntered forward to join the bint and the brats. Draco’s jaw nearly hit the floor as he watched his mother gracefully fall to her knees to help the children wrap the garland around the tree, laughing alongside Hermione.  
  
 _Well, at least Hermione can’t say that his mother doesn’t like her._  
  
“Draco, bring over those boxes of decorations so we can finish,” Hermione chanted, turning back to speak with his mother.  
  
He was afraid of what else she had planned for the day, but if it continued to show him that all her arguments would hold false when he asked her, well, he’d happily go through it.  
  
\--  
  
When he thought happily go through the rest of her plans, he hadn’t realised that she also planned for this. Had he known that this was on the agenda, he would have disinclined himself and figured asking her for New Year’s would be better.  
  
But then she looked up at him with her bright doe-eyes and the children were hoping and clapping excitedly in hopes for the next adventure of the day.  
  
Who was he to ruin their fun?  
  
 _Blood bint and her brats,_  he thought. She could tell he was on the fence, and had called him a grinch and a scrooge making the children gasp in shock.  
  
The two were ready to burst into tears, lips quivering and eyes watering, unhappy that Hermione had called him a name. She had quickly left him to his thoughts to tend to them and all Draco could think was why would they cry over her calling him a grinch? It was hardly the worse thing she had ever said to him. He definitely said things far worse than that. Even now, on the occasions they managed to get the children to bed early or out of the house with his Mum or the Weasleys, he would get to call her all sorts of nasty things.  
  
She was a kinky girl, and it was just another reason why he wanted her as his wife.  
  
“What is a grinch? And who is scrooge?” He questioned, unsure if it would help sort the two out.  
  
“Only the meanest, worstest, people you could ever be at Christmastime!” Rose stressed.  
  
“Yeah!” Scorpius cried in agreement.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he protested. “I didn’t realise, I’m nothing like them, it’s okay, I won’t be a grinch or a scrooge. I promise.”  
  
The two brats’ frowns turned into smiles and the whole thing was quickly forgotten, but it still didn’t help him out.  
  
He was standing in front of the Weasley home.  
  
 _The Burrow,_  was but several metres in front of him and his family, and it was getting closer.  
  
Even if the bint was holding his hand and the brats were skipping and lollygagging in front of them, and the whole thing warmed his heart, it didn’t make being there any better.  
  
His reluctance must have showed as Hermione squeezed his hand in reassurance. “Don’t worry, they won’t bite, and it’s not like we’re going inside,” she teased.  
  
“We may not be going inside, but we’re still here. And we’re going to sing!” he nearly shouted. He had let go of her hand and thought that the earth would swallow him up. It was against the fundamental laws of Magic for a Malfoy to be near Weasley property with good intentions.  
  
“Hush you. It’s not like your son doesn’t spend loads of time here. And if it’s good intentions that are an issue, I’ve heard you sing. You singing to the Weasleys is not good intentions,” Hermione giggled.  
  
Did he say that out loud? He must have, and what was this? Did she think he could not sing?  
  
“I’ll have you know, you’ve only heard me sign in the shower when I do not have a care in the world.” he lifted his chin up in defiance.  
  
“Sure,” she jested, holding the ‘u’ for a few moments to prove how much she believed his excuses.  
  
Before he could retort, the children reached the front door and had knocked.  
  
He took a deep breath in preparation and wrapped his arm around Hermione as if she were his shield. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this.  
  
“Merry Christmas,” several redheads shouted as they scrambled out the door. Draco couldn’t count them all with his fingers and toes combined, and decided he wouldn’t even try.  
  
“Merry Christmas,” Hermione smiled as she hugged several of her ex-in-laws. Draco nodded to Potter and Percy and shook hands with George and Bill - the only two that he liked, not that he would tell anyone that - and watched as Hermione stepped back into his embrace when her ex-husband followed his family.  
  
The look on the Weasel’s face almost made the whole thing worth it. When his face turned as red as his hair and one would think steam was being released from his ears, Draco could have burst into song right there.  
  
When Molly gave him a glare and She-Potter elbowed him to keep him from saying anything, he knew that it was worth it. Clearly the Weasley family didn’t mind his presence in either Hermione or Rose’s life, and that was one more point for him when he finally asked her should she give that as an excuse to reject him.  
  
When the two brats began singing ‘Jingle Bells’ and Hermione lightly step on his foot to join in, he did with glee.  
  
Maybe it was worth it.  
  
\--  
  
“Seriously, how much more do you have on your itinerary?” Draco grumbled. He wasn’t second guessing wanting to marry the bint and ensuring that the brats were both his. He just hoped that the next year wouldn’t be as ridiculously crazy as this year.  
  
“Only about four more things, Draco.” Hermione smiled up at him as she held both children’s hands.  
  
They were walking through a mall.  _A Muggle mall,_  and he knew Lucius would be screaming in Azkaban if he knew. Well, he would scream when he got the  _Daily Prophet_  when they caught wind to him asking a Muggle-born, Hermione Granger no less, to marry him.  
  
“Why are we here?” He nagged, trying to avoid being shoved by the crowd.  
  
“So the children can meet Santa.” she replied.  
  
He could hardly hear her over the din and nearly ran straight into her when she stopped. He was just about to ask her what she meant and why they had stopped when he saw a queue of children waiting to sit on some random santa-dressed man’s lap.  
  
“Granger,” he hissed, “I am not letting either of my children go near a weird stranger such as that.” He caught himself when he called both brats as his, and if she noticed she paid it no mind. She only laughed in that way that he knew meant she was mocking him and calling him an idiot in her head.  
  
“Idiot,” she chortled.  
  
Okay, maybe not just in her head.  
  
The two children giggled and played a game with their hands while he stared at Hermione going over his own plan.  
  
At midnight he would propose to her. She would give him a look of ‘are you crazy?’ and he would ask her why she would hesitate to say yes.  
  
She would say ‘because of the children,’ and he would reply smugly, ‘they already called me daddy and you mummy.’  
  
She would glare at his smug expression and he would school it away and then say ‘You’re a Malfoy, your family would never accept a Muggle-born for a daughter-in-law,’ and he would try to hold back a smirk as he answered ‘My mother loves you and my father is in Azkaban so who cares what he thinks.’  
  
She would grasp for straws and he would hold back his laugh as she threw out her last defence, ‘But the Weasleys’ and he would interrupt her before she could finish and say ‘clearly approve of me over dear ol’ Ronald as you saw them keep him in check while you stood close to me.’  
  
Then she wouldn’t be able to say no and she would nod her head in acceptance, he would slide the ring onto her finger and she would peer at in awe of its magnificence.  
  
She would get over her shock at being engaged and then jump into his arms and the two would shag like bunnies.  
  
All in all, it was a brilliant plan.  
  
“You seem sure of yourself,” she whispered up to him. They were getting close to the front of the queue and she walked ahead to speak to a woman dressed as an elf - not a House-elf, Hermione had explained to Scorpius while he was daydreaming.  
  
When they reached the front, Hermione walked both brats to Santa and each hopped onto a knee of his. Draco appeared baffled as he watched the two whisper conspiratorially with the man and Hermione smile behind her hand.  
  
She walked back to him and he gave her a questioning look.  
  
“They’re telling him what they want for Christmas.” she answered the unspoken question and turned to speak to the head Elf about getting pictures.  
  
Draco already knew that he had bought them everything they had on their Christmas list and the only thing they could ask Santa for was the one thing that he also hoped for.  
  
He was sure that he could fulfill the final wish.  
  
\--  
  
“I get to open a gift?” Scorpius squealed as he hopped onto a lounge chair near the tree.  
  
“Of course!” Rose exclaimed as she shuffled to the table near the fireplace to put down a glass of milk.  
  
Hermione followed behind her with a plate of cookies - the cookies from that morning - and set it next to the milk.  
  
“But it’s not Christmas!” Scorpius countered.  
  
“Be it as it may, you are allowed to open  _one_  gift. We all get to.” Hermione smiled at him as she sat on the floor next to Draco. He wrapped an arm around her and pecked her cheek while the children pretended to throw up.  
  
“Pick a gift for each of us, please,” he snorted. It amused him so that the children wanted them to be married, and truly a family, but couldn’t handle a simple kiss. It wasn’t like he had done anything too daring. He was saving that for later,  _much later_ , after they had gone to bed and he got the answer he wanted.  
  
Rose picked out a small box wrapped in green with a silver ribbon and handed it to him while Scorpius grabbed a large package wrapped in red with a gold ribbon and handed it to Hermione. The two smiled at each other at the school colors being represented.  
  
The two children would grab a present from under the tree, shake it, listen to it closely, try and peek into any loose edges, and then place it back under the tree, only to do it again with the next gift.  
  
“Just pick one, you can open the rest tomorrow.” He nearly shouted. He wanted to get them to bed, he had plans.  
  
She smacked his arm in reprimand and laughed. “Yes, you two need to hurry up, else Santa will skip our house because two little children decided to be naughty and stay up.”  
  
He shouldn’t have perked up when she said naughty, but she slid her hand down his thigh. If anyone was on Santa’s naughty list, it would be the bint, doing such indecent things with the children right there - even if their attention was held to the gifts under the tree.  
  
The two gulped and grabbed the nearest present, paying no heed to whom it was meant for and sat on the floor in front of the tree.  
  
The two looked at each gift in their hands. Scorpius with a purple square and Rose with a blue sphere and threw the present to the opposite child and proceeded to tear them open.  
  
Draco and Hermione held back their laughs at the antics, but Draco knew that this was one tradition he liked, and would continue for the years to come.  
  
\--  
  
He seriously couldn’t believe he let the bint talk him into this. All he knew was that if she didn’t hold to her promise - he made her pinky promise, in front of the children, mind you they didn’t hear what the actual promise was, it wasn’t meant for the ears of anyone under the age of twenty - he would be irate and unhappy and quite possibly be a grinch and a scrooge, the children’s christmas be damned.  
He wouldn’t really do that though, the peaceful looks on both their faces as they laid on the lounge chair holding the one gift they had opened earlier tight to their chests. Rose with a new book about all types of serpents - she’d be a Slytherin, yet - and Scorpius with a Quaffle.  
  
Hermione was still sitting on the floor, eyeing him up, giggling quietly into a pillow.  
  
It was her fault he was dressed as Santa Claus and had spelled himself to have a small belly and a white beard. Silly bint making him do this. She was lucky he wanted her to be really happy come midnight.  
  
The light snoring coming from the brats drew his attention back to them and Hermione edged him on with a nod.  
  
“Ho, ho, ho,” He exclaimed with a deeper voice.  
  
The startled children jumped up and Rose nearly screamed. The two huddled close together and held on to each other as if he were a Boggart.  
  
If he had known about Santa as a child, he was sure that his Boggart would turn into him.  
  
“Now why are you two out of bed?” he croaked, still in his deep voice, as he bent down so that he was looking at them both straight in the eye. “Should I move you off the Nice list and leave you a lump of coal?”  
  
“No, no, no,” the two screeched as they grabbed their gifts and blanket and ran up the stairs, making promises of going to bed and not coming down until morning when nice children should.  
  
\--  
  
Before he turned around his beard disappeared but the belly stayed.  
  
“Well then, it’s my turn to tell Santa my Christmas wish,” the saucy minx purred as she stood up from her spot on the floor. The pillow and blanket fell to the ground and she was wearing an elf outfit - one not meant for store Elves or House-elves, but naughty ones, and Draco gulped at the implications.  
  
She was wearing a green romper of sorts, that barely went beyond her crotch, underneath an off shoulder ruffle top that barely went under her breasts. On top of the riotous curls he liked to slips his fingers through was a green hat similar to the one atop his head.  
  
She sauntered over to him and he noticed the black kneehigh boots with the white furry trim at the top, drawing the eyes to her legs that went on forever.  
  
He gulped again.  
  
Next thing he knew, he was seated on the lounge chair that was vacated by the children, with her sitting on his knee.  
  
The innocent expression on her face did not belong there while she was dressed as she was.  
  
He maneuvered a little so that she was closer to his knee than completely on his thigh, less she feel something. His hand felt bare skin and he leaned over to see the back of the outfit.  
  
The romper had no back and the ruffled top thinned out so that it was almost as thin as the clasps of a normal bra. He trailed his hand down her skin until it reached fabric, barely above her arse and followed it to her hip where he felt velcro. He looked up to her face in question and she whispered “window bottom,” which only made him arch his eyebrow.  
  
Sweet Salazar, how he loved this witch. He was going to wait until Midnight, but it was just the two of them, and sure it was corny that he was dressed as Santa and she was dressed as his helper, but the love that shined in her eyes, all the misgivings that he figured she would have to say disappeared.  
  
Before he could move a hand to his pocket to remove the velvet box meant for her, she whimpered, making him ever grateful to have moved her.  
  
“Santa,” she started, “I have a Christmas wish too.”  
  
 _That look seriously should not be on the face of someone dressed so naughty,_  he thought.  
  
She cleared her throat, drawing his attention away from the amount of cleavage pressed against the tight romper. How he loved her breasts.  
  
“And what would you ask of Santa?” He replied, looking back at her face.  
  
“Well,” she answered, “I want you to say yes.”  
  
That was unexpected. He thought she was going to lead them into a round of naughty sex under the tree - a fantasy of his that he voiced to her just a week ago - further proving that she was the witch meant for him.  
  
“Huh?” he stuttered.  
  
“Draco, I know that it hasn’t been very long, and your mother has only started to get along with me and the Weasley’s only put up with you because you make me happy, but Rose already considers you her father and Scorpius has been calling me mummy for weeks now, and really, I just want us to be a family officially,” she rambled.  
  
“Huh?” he stammered.  _What?_  
  
“Will you marry me?” she asked, nibbling on her lip.  
  
Did she just ask me to marry her?  
  
“Why yes, yes I did.” she chuckled.  
  
He jumped up, barely remembering to hold onto her. It didn’t matter that she was the one to ask him. He spun her around and kissed her squarely on the lips and pulled out the ring he meant to give her all those times before he chickened out.  
  
“Yes, yes.” He whispered into a kiss.  
  
The bint and her brats were officially his.  
  
\--  
  
 **Bonus** : Smutty smut smut. I had to do something with the sexy outfits they were in!  
  
After the celebratory kisses were had and the ring was stared at by his now fiance, he wanted to take advantage of the sexy outfit she was in. He quickly spelled away the belly that made him more like Santa - he couldn’t believe she proposed to him while they were dressed as they were and he had a gut!  
  
“Let’s take a look at this window bottom, my little helper.” he said as she slid from his arms onto the floor.  
  
She spun around so that she was on her hands and knees. Oh how she made a pretty sight. Draco fell to his own knees so that she could feel his hardness against her thighs. He caressed the skin he could see, making her giggle.  
  
“Santa, it tickles,” she breathed out, trying not to squirm too much.  
The squirming only made his pants tighten further. There would be little foreplay this first go, but the sexy witch in front of him didn’t seem to mind.  
  
“Oh, how Santa likes the naughty ones,” he murmured as he trailed his fingers to the velcro once again and pulled the bottom window away from her skin. When he had pulled the window completely so that there was no longer any velcro connected, it laid against her thighs, framing her bottom perfect. He bent forward, and brushed his lips down the cheeks of her arse to her hairless lips. His breath causing her to shiver.  
  
He lapped at her already glistening lips and hummed in pleasure. He loved her taste and could lap at her for hours. He continued to lick from her puckered arse all the way down to her clit, making her moan. Her arms shook and she barely managed to keep herself up.  
  
He continued to lick at her cunt while rubbing her thighs, pushing her more forward making her fall to her elbows. He paused but she pushed back onto his tongue. The groans of “more,” had him grazing his hand up her legs, down her torso, to her ruffled top. He pulled the thin fabric down so that her breasts popped out. He latched onto her clit, letting his nose penetrate her cunt shallowly. He tweaked her nipples until they were taut and just as she was about to cum, he bit her rump, causing her to fall completely forward.  
  
The sight of her sweaty body, her arse tightening as she humped the floor, nearly made him make a mess of his pants.  
  
“Santa isn’t done with you,” he rasped as he skimmed her back.  
  
“Please,” she moaned.  
  
“Please, what?”  
  
“Please, let me cum,” she whimpered.  
  
“Only those on the nice list get to cum,” he continued. He liked playing this game, and knew that Hermione enjoyed begging almost as much as he - not that she would admit that to anyone, plus no one would believe him. “You’ve been very naughty.”  
  
“Please, please, please,” she chanted as his finger probed her pussy. He added a second one and upped his pace, letting it slide in and out. Her chants sped up and he matched her pace, adding a third finger.  
  
“Oh...” she groaned. He knew she was close and just before she could fall over the edge, he pulled his fingers out, much to her displeasure.  
“Please,” she growled, and he knew that he couldn’t deny her anymore. He unbuckled the wide black belt and shimmied the red velvet pants down to his knees. He pulled Hermione up and slid a few pillows under her, putting her arse on display.  
  
Draco lined himself up with her cunt causing Hermione to sigh. He didn’t like her being complacent and smacked her arse as a reminder. The smack made her jolt pushing the head into her. They both moaned, he at the tight fit, her for feeling full.  
  
He slowly slid into her further, letting her feel every ridge of his cock. He loved the feeling of her wrapped around him, be it her mouth or her pussy. The more he entered her, the quicker she took breath. He knew she was anticipating when he truly take her.  
  
He bottomed out and stilled, taking deep breaths to ensure he could make it last.  
  
She wiggled and whispered Draco, breaking character. He didn’t like that, so he slowly pulled out completely, possibly slower than his initial entrance, making Hermione squirm further.  
  
He maintained the position of his cock so that it could slide right back in. He grabbed the black belt meant for his costume and raised it above his head. With one hand he held her still by the hips and the other, still holding the belt, raised it up.  
  
As he brought it down to smart her arse, he impaled her on his cock.  
  
She pushed her mouth to the floor, muffling her scream.  
  
He pulled out quickly only to repeat the action, thrust and smack. The scream transformed into a moan by the fourth strike causing him to drop the belt and grip her hips with both hands tightly. He positioned her so that she was on all fours only to fuck her more fiercely.  
  
In and out. In and out.  
  
The rhythm is constant, he is battering her pussy and her muscles clench him tighter. He moved his knees closer to her, hunching over so that his his hands can grasp her breasts. He fondled them, squeezing them with each thrust, her nipples between his fingers, pinched every few seconds.  
  
His heart is beating with each peirce of his cock. She is close and he thrusts deeper, harder, and faster. He is getting closer, and she chants his name in tune with his thrusts, his heart, he isn’t sure anymore. All he knows is that he loves this witch and he is going to marry her and just there -  
  
He can see stars and collapses on top of her.  
  
His breathing calms and he’s just about to sleep when Hermione pulls an arm from under them and slaps her hand near his face. It’s her left hand and he can see the sparkle of the engagement ring and sighs contentedly.  
  
This is the life.  
  
“Uh, Draco, if you don’t get off me this very instant, I can promise you that I will be a very unhappy witch who will not want to marry you any longer simply because she suffocated under a ferret in a santa suit.” Hermione warns.  
  
He turns his head to see her wand gripped tightly in her other hand.  
  
This is mostly the life.


End file.
